Well crap on a cracker!

I am the only child of parents who were close to the youngest in their families. My grandmother had my mom when she was 35 and my mom had me when she was 36. Both of my parents died before I hit 32. What is my point you wonder?

Well...it seems like I have been going to funerals my whole life. I have spent more time at funeral homes and visitations than I have going to weddings and baptisms. I did not know either of my grandfathers. (In fairness my mother did not really know her father well either since she was 6 when he died). One grandmother died when I was 10 and crazy grandma lived until I was 17. Both were in the their 80's. Most of my great aunts and great uncles did not make it to the 1970's.

I remember at a very young age being hauled around to funerals and family dinners with people I only vaguely knew and most likely never saw again. My mother was VERY devoted to her belief that if someone dies you GO to the funeral. It doesn't matter if it's your 12th cousin, twice-removed, you go and you honor the dead. I am not sure if it was a mom thing or an old-school Catholic thing...maybe a bit of both. I was once half way across Iowa (from Minnesota)...in the dead of winter I might add...before I realized I was risking life and limb to go to my 92 year old 2nd cousin's funeral. I did not even think twice about it until I was past Des Moines.

Most of my Aunts and Uncles passed in the 80's and 90's with a couple of hold outs who made it to the 2010s. I have three Aunt-in-laws who are still alive and kicking and a lot of cousins. But recently my mortality has been tweaked by the passing of one of my first cousins. (See earlier blog) It's a little disconcerting when your generation begins to make its way onward. Even sadder when it's your first cousins' children who are taken too soon.

 Today I found out that one of my mother's last remaining first cousins passed away. He was 95. We were not close. I knew who he was. I would recognize him if I saw him somewhere. I knew we were related. But I instantly went into "funeral mode". I was more successful than normal in talking myself down from "funeral mode". My mom would have spent hours on the phone calling people tonight to let them know and pass on condolences. She would have been one of the first to arrive at the rosary and one of the last to leave the visitation. She would have been at the funeral and the graveside service and she would have talked to EVERYBODY!

I have finally reached a point in my life where I can kind of back away from mom's funeral training. I can allow myself now to be more relaxed and less on funeral point. I can allow myself to go to either the rosary and visitation or the funeral without feeling like I HAVE to go to both. Unless of course...it's a close relation...and then all bets are off. I can do these things...but crap on a cracker...I still feel guilty about choosing. Less guilty than I have felt in the past but guilty none the less.

I think Mom's message was that we honor the dead and we comfort the living because family and those we love are intrinsically bound to us. Love is stronger than death and in those moments when we remember and we honor those who have passed we keep their energy and their souls vibrant in this world. No one should be forgotten. Amen!